


Romance

by violetlolitapop



Series: Bullets [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/M, blood; bullets; and needles are flying everywhere, fem!russia, first person POV, off screen character death, slightly au'ish, that happens to other characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-01
Updated: 2014-10-01
Packaged: 2018-02-18 02:26:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2331848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violetlolitapop/pseuds/violetlolitapop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's like static overlapping nothing but white. A winter playground ready to be stained with blood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Romance

It's the chill that lets me know.

That sudden drop in temperature that would pass by undetected to anyone else in an already freezing climate gives me the edge I need to be one step ahead. So I wait, listening the non existing crush of rubble underneath barely falling foot falls all the while taking in deep breaths to make it seem as though I'm still sleeping.

I hear the nearly inaudible movement of her coat rustle against the leather of her glove as she reaches a holster strapped to her thigh. Footsteps that still barely make any noise as they pas against the gravel move closer while the sound of the hammer being pulled into position clicks.

I move my chest up and down, breathing deeply, keeping appearances up.

"You are not sleeping."

The corners of my lips twitch like they would in a polite response to a bad joke before my eyes start to crack open.

The world's caked with a layer of grim and distorted by a hair line crack in the right of my glasses. The only thing stopping me from taking them off for a good cleaning is knowing that any unplanned movement could leave me without my ace in the hole.

Staring down the barrel of a pistol also helps.

I shift my weight indifferently, making it seem like I'm just getting into a comfortable position to die by the hands of the ashen haired beauty in front of me. A hand behind my clenches at a cylinder, a single finger reaches the top and slides around a button.

"What's a pretty girl like you," I say, "doing in a place like this?"

Her lips curl up into that sweet smile she loves to show off, making her violet eyes squint a little more closely together.

"Flatter is not always the best way to be getting out of a situation, Amerika," she smiles. "Another with less patience might have pulled the trigger and done away with that bothersome mouth of yours."

I grin right back up at her and pull out the detonator clear in the open. "Now is that any way to treat an ally?"

Her eyes widen at the sight of the cylinder and in less then three seconds, they dart from crevices to niches all over, finally seeing the bundles of C4 and sticks of dynamite set up and ready to blow.

There's a quick twitch of her lips that signals her smile about to fall, but in seconds it becomes even more fierce and a brightness hits her eyes in a way I hadn't seen for a long while. She drops her weapon down to her side just as she throws her head back, her long mane of silver locks flying along with the motion as a harsh spills from her lips.

"Filled with such surprises," she says after her amusement subsides and she places the pistol back into its holster. "As always."

"Well, Russia, you know me," I say and lift myself up. "If I'm gonna fall, I sure as hell'm gonna take as many of them as I can."

"I will ever understand why you must be so dramatic."

"Just makes life a little more interesting."

"Yes, because life is not at all interesting enough."

I ignore the sarcastic remark and straighten myself out instead. I give the surroundings a quick scan, noting how the snow had stopped falling since I first decided to make a rest zone out of a small cavern just some feet above the ground in this mountain valley. I lean over real quick to pick up the pack I dragged up with me, hidden behind a pack of rocks and open it up, ready to load everything back in and set out once more.

"If I may be allowed to indulge in my own curiosity," Russia begins after too much silence. "How did Amerika find himself in such a place and by himself, no less?"

"Now that's a long story. Besides, what're you doing out here anyway?" I ask instead. "I thought I told everyone to meet in Mexico."

"And yet you yourself have barely made any progress to Mexico's home," she answers crisply. "Mexico had been very distraught when I did arrive and you were still nowhere to be found."

"Yeah, well it's not exactly easy to go anywhere when I've got that fucker above me nowadays."

Russia tilts her head thoughtfully as I go around collecting an explosive here and there, measuring up the damage each one could do on its own instead of the collaborated beauty I had planned for just in case.

"Your brother is attempting to invade again," she states. "I did hear that would happen from Italy after the news of England's defeat reached us. Though I do wonder when you were planning to bring this to our attention?"

I brush off the tense feeling I get nowadays whenever someone mentions England and lie through my teeth. "I was gonna tell everyone when I got to Mexico."

She sees right through it. "I am sure."

I set everything by the pack and take my time to stack everything up carefully enough so that when the going gets rough, nothing'll bother everything inside.

"So Italy got caught by you guys then?" I ask her, wanting to get away from the Canada subject.

"Yes," she responds gleefully. "I had been even given the opportunity to question him myself while he was in my people's hands."

"Was?" I pause to stand back up once everything's ready to go. "Where is he now?"

That smile came back. "Rotting some feet below the earth by now, I am sure."

With the pack strapped on to my back and the rest of the area cleared out with little more than a nasty surprise left behind for any invaders looking for shelter against the snow, I smile back at her. "Good to know."

"So did Italy spill anything else before croaking?" I ask while leading her down to the mountain's base and toa nother small cavern where my White Knight was kept.

"I am afraid not. You see, while he carried on in gloating over your mentor's downfall and went into greater details of Canada tearing your entire being apart, my finger slipped on the trigger of the revolver pointed at his head."

I stop walking just so that I could turn back to her.

"Your fingers slipped?" I ask.

Her eyes close as she smiles. "That is correct."

It's a lie, but there's no sense in calling her out on it when I just lied myself. So I let it go, face foward again and go back to marching in the snow.

It isn't until we reach the damn thing when I notice that she's been following closely, not straying off in another direction for her own bike and figure it to be something weird.

"Where's your bike?" I ask her.

"Hm?" she sounds innocently. "What bike do you speak of?"

"Your White Knight. I know you can do this creepy thing where you can just find me anywhere but how else would you get here?"

"Silly, Amerika," she giggles. "What fun would it be to tell you such information?"

My eyes narrow up into her own shining pair that tell me nothing. I break the contact first, spinning on my heel and sweep the flimsy piece of plastic covering off the machine before doing a half-assed job of packing it away with my bag in the basket hitched at the back. I look back at her while getting ready to mount the damn thing, only to see her still watching, practically waiting for the invitation.

"Get on," I half order, and without missing a beat, Russia follows it.

The road south takes more time to travel than it should. We choose the long route, through the narrower valleys cut in between the towering piles of rock and snow, all to avoid the main paths and slip by undetected. It doesn't matter that this is my home, not anymore. Anyone can be lurking behind any given corner. We've all learned /i/that/it/ the hard way.

I glance back, seeing that Russia's decided to ride while leaning back, gripping at the thin side bars to keep herself steady. I keep doing it every now and then, and each time I do, she makes a big show of putting even more distance between us, leaning further back and making it seem as if shes ready to fall at any moment and does nothing but smile back.

"Are you comfortable back there?" I cal out to her after another check.

She responds instantly. "As comfortable as one can be."

"You'd probably be a lot better off if you leaned forward more."

"But if I were to do such a thing, there would be nothing for me to be holding on to."

She must be going through a phase of dragging out invitations from me. A very annoying phase.

"You can hold onto me," I offer.

"What was that?"

I hate her.

"Just, wrap yourself around my waist or something, I don't want you to fall back and then have to stop just so you can get back on!"

I keep my eyes looking forward as I feel her shift forward slowly, making sure she keeps herself steady while inching closer and soon enough I feel her hands at my waist.

"So kind of you to be inconveniencing yourself for my own comfort," she says in a low tone against my ear. She leans in the upper half of her body closer, barely pressing the swell of her breast against my back. "Though one would think it to be suspicious for you to offer your waist when your shoulders would be adequate enough support."

"That would get in the way of my driving," I excuse.

I can hear the smile in her voice. "Of course."

I hate her.

She shifts back a little, readying the lower half of herself to be just as close as the rest of her body. Before she's able to go any further though, the crack of a rifle being shot off echoes through the valley and a bullet tears straight through the skin and muscles of my left shoulder before lodging of-so-comfortably against the bone.

The hit forces me into a whiplash that knocks Russia into the snow with myself following. The White Knight keeps going even without anyone at the controls, right up until it crashes against a mountainside that needed a sharp turn to avoid. The hit throws us both off, I lay there panting in the snow as blood seeps out of the wound and soak into the ice beneath me. I barely register Russia crawling over to my body and her rummaging through the inside of her coat before another crack echoes in the canyon and she falls forward.

For a moment, the pain in my shoulder's forgotten as I cry out her name and surge forward, rolling her over onto her back and into my lap. Her eyes are wider and she's breathing harder than normal. Though that's probably more from the shock of being hit as there is no blood coming out from the wound.

"I am fine," she says. "The bullet.. It has hit the back of my vest."

"You're wearing a vest?"

"Yes, much like you should have been!" she shouts at me while pulling out the pistol from before along with another one strapped to her thigh. "Are you able to shoot?"

"Does it matter?" I ask her while trying to move the injured arm as much as possible, just to see. "I can move it just fine."

She sits up quickly and rips a piece of cloth off from the bottom of her coat. "We must wrap it before you lose too much blood."

"No time."

She ignores me, and with weapons still in hand she creates a make shift tourniquet to stop the bleeding. By the time she finishes, there really is no time left.

We both stand up silently, watching as a good twenty something masked gunmen come out of hiding from random niches in the mountainsides. They make their way downwards as we move closer together, preparing for a fight.

"Another ambush," I mutter and pull out my own weapon from my holster while my injured arm does it's best to reach for the one hidden under my jacket.

Russia gives me a quick sideways glance. "Another?"

"You sound surprised."

"Only half."

They creep closer to us, ready to form up a tight circle to keep us from escaping.

"I wouldn't know why," I tell her.

"It keeps life interesting."

The safeties come off.

"And life isn't interesting enough."

Russia fires first, the starting bullet lodges into the head of a poor soul that was just unlucky enough to be the first casualty. The retaliation is instant.

The bullets start flying and we start running. There's nowhere for us to take cover, the valley is narrow and anywhere either one of us could have used for shelter is blocked by one of them/ Our only option is to keep moving, keep dodging, which is done easily enough. Anything too quick is either blocked by Russia's vest or I just use my bum arm to take the hit as a last resort.

We end up separating, both on opposing sides of the makeshift battleground, dividing and conquering. We're nearly half through them when it all goes to hell.

The rifle makes it's appearance again, by sound, same as before. The target this time is Russia, the bullet aimed at her Achilles tendon, forcing her down into the snow and ready to be pounced on. It distracts me from keeping myself safe, letting one of them shoot up the rest of my injured arm and another to shoot out the other weapon out of my good hand along with a good chunk of it.

Russia kicks with her good leg and fires off at anyone who tries to get near her. They do get to her though, once she runs out of ammo. They pile on her, keeping her down just enough to stick her with a syringe and fill her up with something that weakens her movements. Then they come at her with something tie her up, keep her still.

I try to make my way to her and I'm almost able to. Even without the use of my hands I can still shake them off, I can still break free. But one of them grabs on from the back of my neck, I feel a needle being plunged into my skin. The same stuff they dosed Russia with flows right into me. It's fast acting, whatever it is. In almost no time at all I start to move slower, I'm not able to push them off as quickly, as strongly as I could. They bind me together just like Russia.

Then comes the clincher. The sound of the one voice I haven't been able to stomach since England was thrown to the dogs.

"Not bad for a couple of old duffers."

In comes Sealand, and like always Latvia follows behind him, obviously the one to have been playing sniper by the way he caries the rifle. Either way, it's not something I really want to deal with right now.

"Don't hurt her anymore than she already is," Sealand orders as he comes closer. "She can't undergo anything if too much of her is newly regenerated."

"You're given some pretty big assignments for just a little kid," I goad.

My words cause something in him to tense up. He completely bypasses Russia with a wimple wave at Latvia to deal with her instead and stands right in front of me.

"You're in no position to insult me," he tells me. Ever since he got "older" from taking over the entire UK, he's gotten an even shorter temper.

"I'm not insulting anyone," I shoot back at him. "I'm just stating fact... kid."

"I am not a kid anymore."

"You got taller, but that don't mean a thing."

"I'm a nation now."

"You're a lackey."

"I earned my title, I don't know what you're insinuating."

"You think I don't know?" I ask him. "That the only reason you got where you are is because you turned England's brothers against him? And then turned on them by siccing that mute lapdog of yours on them? You didn't do a damn thing yourself to earn what you claim."

Something in hip snaps. Sealand reaches for the front of my jacket and pulls me out of my captor's hands before taking his own weapon to my face. He strikes the barrel across each cheek a few times before letting me fall to my knees in the snow.

"Canada said we had to keep you intact to get to Russia," says Sealand. "Well, we have her now so as far as I'm concerned, we can do whatever we want to you now. I suggest you show me some respect."

I hawk a mouthful of blood out onto the snow and smile up at him.

"Is that the best you can do, you pansy?"

The echo of his bullet goes on for so long that I hear it even after I've hit the floor.

There's a fierce throbbing pain in the bottom of my gut, copper fills my mouth and my vision starts to go. Little by little, my eyes start to drop, and all I can hear is Russia struggling harder against her captors before there's a sold thud of what can only be the butt of Latvia's rifle against the back of head and then nothing.

My fingers twitch, my leg shakes. I want to get up, I try to get up, but my body's too heavy. It won't move an inch. The acid from my stomach starts to pour out, starts to feed on my other organs and the only thing I'm able to do is listen to to the two set of footsteps crunch through the snow right up to me.

"Shoot him in the head," Sealand orders.

Latvia follows it and everything goes quiet...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...My eyes flash open. A dull throb in my chest where a thick ended syringe stands straight out like an eye sore pulses through my senses. Every little piece of my body is on a sensory overload, and it's only when the realization that I'm definitely not alone do I even bother to calm down.

"Be calm," an order comes a little too late. "They got you bad."

I try to blink the world into focus while my breathing regains its usual pattern. It doesn't work. By now there should be some kind of sign that says my vision is coming back after being knocked around like that, but all that's there is the same distorted fuzz of colored botches that should be objects and people.

"My glasses," I mutter. "Where's Texas?"

"Here!"

Another blurred out figure leans over and continues to speak. "Lot of damage to them, but I fix good enough. Right lens has big crack down middle, sorry."

"It's not a problem," I say and reach out for them, clutching the lenses as soon as the metal frame hits the palm of my hand.

I shove them on, not even caring how I was already making smudges on the clean surfaces and griming them up again. Not even a blink needed my sight to come back to me. The first thing to confront are those that helped me out of Death's grip.

Just by their voices I knew they're a woman and a man, and by their accents, I'm already pretty sure who it is. It's a small victory to be right.

Dressed in her dark green battle gear, Vietnam had blood up to her elbows, right where her sleeves were pushed up. Next to her was a bowl of every bullet that hit me with all sorts of surgical tools thrown inside and a small pile of cloths and gauze. Her medical pack was still opened, giving view to the other supplies stashed around.

South Korea sits closer to my side, dressed in the same get up but with the lack of the same air given off by his sister. I'm pretty sure it's the cowlick that throws off his game.

I stare at them and they stare back, waiting for me to say something.

"Mind getting this thing outta me?" I ask, nodding to the adrenaline shot still poking out from my chest.

Vietnam moves forward without any hesitation. "Stay still," is all she says before taking the end of it into her hands.

There's no mercy when she does it. The needle dislodges from my skin with a sharp rip and the dull throbbing intensifies to an even greater pain. It hurts so bad I can't stop a grunt from coming outta the back of my throat. Even Korea flinches at his sister's actions.

"Why like that?" he asks.

"He was stupid," she answers. "Makes him remember for next time."

"Can't make any promises," I grin while working a hand up to touch the bandage around my head, "but I'll try to keep from dying next time."

Vietnam instantly smacks it away. "Don't poke at head, it not fully healed yet."

She does some more patchwork on me while I scope out the surroundings. The two obviously dragged me into another cavern that must've been close by to where we were ambushed. It's smaller than the one I took shelter in earlier but just as efficient.

"What're you two doing out here anyway?" I ask once the medical stuff's over and done with.

"Cuba say that Canada maybe plan to use Sealand and Lativa to make big plan for something," Vietnam tells. "He ask me and Korea to spy before they make contact with your brother instead of travel to Mexico with others. We follow them for some time already."

Stupid asshole, I scoff internally. I thought I made it clear he couldn't make an order like that under any circumstance. "And what's France doing in all this?"

They don't say anything. Vietnam looks away, and Korea takes up the explanation.

Officials take France away," he says. "To put with China."

Vietnam stands up suddenly. She walks to the cave entrance and makes a big show of scanning the nearby area from her sniper scope. Korea and I just stay quiet. It was one thing to mention China, but to also hear how France ended up in the same place as him; a girl's heart could tonly take so much.

"We need go to Mexico," she says. "Meet with everyone else already."

"Sealand and Latvia are taking Russia to Canada," I say and stumble up myself, the strength in my body barely coming back to me. "We need to get her back before we do that."

"Russia is strong woman," Vietnam says. "She will take care of herself."

"You didn't see how they took her down."

"America," Korea begins, "We see how you two fight with enemy, we see those they have with them."

"Then you saw how Sealand's gotten a lot stronger since he took over England's territory," I tell them. "If they keep her under 'till they reach their rendezvous with Canada, it's a high chance we won't see her again."

The wind howls through the cavern, echoing out a light wail that sings into the pit of my stomach. From the looks of the other two, they feel the sense of foreshadowing of what would come if we left Russia behind.

"He is right, sister," Korea says quietly. "If Canada make her like other two, we lose big ally."

"We have no one else," stresses Vietnam, not wanting let down the argument. "With only three, we all be made same like Ukraine and Belarus."

"That's not true," I say. "Not with an ace in the hole."

"What is that?" Vietnam asks.

"Just that this my land," I tell 'em. "Nobody should know what these mountains hide better than me, right?"

Vietnam looks on at me in disbelief. Korea smiles.

It doesn't take long for Vietnam to pack away an old CB radio she keeps strapped to the back of her White Knight before climbing on herself and tells us to do the same. Another hour or so of our time had been taken to get into contact with of the fifty secrets I've been keeping from all the others and find out Sealand and Latvia's location. Another 30 minutes to get our strategy down and now there's none left to spare.

Vietnam takes the lead on the trail with Korea and me following behind. She hadn't been too keen on letting me share a bike with her, and it doesn't really bother me since I wanted to know more about what happened with France. Where I most likely wouldn't get any information out of her, I could get it from her brother.

"I don't know much," he confesses after making sure the distance between us and his sister is large enough for her to not overhear. "But I hear from Hong Kong before Japan take him, that China find out something about wars that he should not have and that is reason why they put him away some place. I think same thing happen to France. When he call Vietnam, he tell her that he now understands, he knows why England lost and why everything happens."

"What was it? What did he say?"

Korea shakes his head. "Vietnam say that the call was cut off, that it was all he could say before line go dead. Next we hear from Germany that France is taken too before he faint. Oh! I should tell you that Germany is with Greece now. Yeah, he is not doing too good, only got away from Poland just barely."

"Great," I moan. "This is just what we need, Germany's out of commission and France is locked away with China for God knows what reason."

Korea shifts uncomfortable at the front while the wind whips right by us, I can see it in his posture that he wants to say something. I almost tell him to spit it out, but he beats me to it.

"I think I know reason why," he starts out. "When I last see China, he say that nothing is real. He say that he thinks that we see things that are not true. That everything is wrong with the fighting, it is too fake."

"What does that mean?"

"I don't know. But he was taken away after that."

"And what? You think France thought the same thing?"

"Why else he get taken too?"

"Who else have you told this to?"

"No one. I am the only one who know, not even Hong Kong. He only know that China find something important. China told me to keep this secret. That he would find proof for everyone when he can and tell when that happens."

His head turns back to give me a glance, in a way that seems like he's just making sure that I hears what he said before he turns back ans asks, "What you think it means?"

I'm not sure what to tell him, I hardly know what any of this means myself. From what I can tell, he's telling me that China figured that there was something wrong going on in the world, something wrong with the reasons behind all the fighting, and then claimed that nothing is really what it seems and tried to figure more of the puzzle out. Which he obviously did since his superiors put him away in a place that none of us could reach, all under the guise of wanting him to be in a safe place when the bombings over Beijing happened.

Is it possible that France went down the same path, tried the same thing? There's no other reason he would suffer the same fate.

No matter how rough things got in all the fighting, nobody's government actually took the time to make sure their Rep was in a safe and secure location. Everybody knows that, so why tell the lie?

"We'll figure it out later," I tell him, and the conversation ends there.

Vietnam slows her speed when we finally reach the two mile mark and Korea does the same, parking his bike next to hers and lets me off. I give them both last minute instructions before Vietnam warns me to be careful and I watch them speed off in another direction until they're no longer within my sight.

I face forward and being to trudge through the leftover slush of snow disturbed by those taking shelter from coming night. In a little more than an hour's time, if all goes according to plan, we'll be able to wipe their toy soldiers off the face of the earth and give a hard goodbye to the two puppets that control them.

**Author's Note:**

> -i remember i started this series because i finally completed my watchmen collection
> 
> -basically it was 10 one shots that were part of bigger and longer chapter fics that were dropped, scrapped, or i just never bothered to complete
> 
> -all of them are on my old computer, and i barely remember what they were going to be about
> 
> -so these are just little snippets of those worlds i guess. the only ones that were ever evolved into something more are chapters 7 and 8
> 
> -i'm gonna write that zombie au dammit. one day


End file.
